


Domesticity

by summerhall



Category: Avengers (Comics), Hawkeye (comic), Marvel 616, Young Avengers
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-27
Updated: 2012-08-27
Packaged: 2017-11-12 23:48:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/497025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerhall/pseuds/summerhall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somewhere between the extra laundry and the matching coffee mugs, Clint stops paying attention. And then the next thing he knows, there's a cello in his living room, another toothbrush in his bathroom, and his whole damn place smells like lilacs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Domesticity

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for Hawkeye #1.

He doesn't call what she does 'moving in'. _Moving in_ makes him think about all those crappy movies he'll never admit to watching at 2 AM where the woman comes into this guy's "man sanctuary" or some shit and starts throwing all his crap out and replacing it with something pink. And she hasn't even been staying there (not anymore than normal, at least.) She's just started to leave things. Essential things, logical things, things that make sense when he gets over the fact that they're _her's_ in _his_ space and starts actually thinking about it. Stuff that he could bring to her when she's in a fight and needs backup, like an extra quiver full of arrows, or a store-bought, mediocre bow in case (God forbid) something should happen to her's (his, her's, their's, _her's_ dammit.)

It's not a big deal. It doesn't bother him. Not when her favorite foods start filling up the otherwise empty fridge. Or even when her clothes start making their way into his laundry. (Though he's had to put up with more than one nosy neighbor giving him the eye when they see him sticking purple lacy underwear in the machines.)

But somewhere between the extra laundry and the matching coffee mugs, Clint stops paying attention. And then the next thing he knows, there's a cello in his living room, another toothbrush in his bathroom, and his whole damn place smells like lilacs.

And it's too much. If she didn't have any other place to go, that'd be one thing. But the girl's loaded. His crappy apartment in his crappy building in Bed-Stuy, with _him_ , can't be her idea of comfortable living. And really, if he'd wanted her to move in, he would have said so. But he didn't. So he didn't. So she's got to go. He needs his man sanctuary back.

He spends his whole night patrol working out what he'll say, since his initial idea of announcing that _this shit's got to go_ while pointing dramatically at the cello and brandishing the tampons he'd found in his bathroom the night before would probably only end up with him in a hell'va lot of pain and her ass cemented to the sofa just for spite. So that's definitely out.

It takes him all night, but he's got it figured out. He's gonna be all clever about it and make it seem like her idea. He's going to, calmly, remind her that she has her own apartment, a much nicer apartment, and while it's alright if she leaves the arrows and the backup bow and even a few shirts at his place, wouldn't it be better if the other things, like her musical instruments and feminine hygiene products, stayed at her place? Wouldn't that make more _sense_ , Katie-girl?

Clint Barton, cleverest archer alive.

It's genius, it's brilliant, it's the only idea he's had that's the least likely to induce tears and/or broken limbs.

But then he gets home and there's a trail of dirty, bloody clothes leading from the front door to the bathroom, and Kate, bruised and beaten and barely covered by his shirt, is passed out on his couch with his dog draped across her legs like a blanket and there's no way in hell he's kicking her out now.

Not when the dog obviously likes her so much.

Sighing, Clint kicks the door shut and starts gathering up her clothes. _I'll tell her in the morning._

He never does.


End file.
